Murder on the Hoof: A Mystery (Colleen McCabe Series) (24 page)

“Oh, there you are,” Myrtle said, stealing a glance back at Colleen before stepping into the hallway.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. Crepe. I got held up with a call.”

Colleen’s heart raced. It was now or never. She slid the ruler in the slot, tucked her finger under the drawer, and jimmied it as much as the well-constructed compartment would allow. Come on, she prayed.

“Thank you so much,” Myrtle said, and looked back at Colleen.

Colleen shook her head. She didn’t quite have it. Myrtle needed to distract Michael a few seconds more. Now’s the time to put those acting skills to use, she thought.

As if Myrtle had read her mind, she clutched Michael’s arm and swayed rather dramatically.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Crepe?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“Oh, I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m feeling a little light-headed.”

Thatta girl, Colleen thought.

“Why don’t you take a seat inside?” Michael said from the hall.

“No,” Myrtle blurted out, and grabbed Michael’s shirt, but then a second later, she was back in character and said, “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind getting me a glass of water.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit?” he asked, trying to move Myrtle toward the doorway. “I’ve seen this happen many times before. It would be safer.”

“Oh! Did you see that!” Myrtle exclaimed.

Even Colleen looked.

“See what?” he asked.

Myrtle pointed a shaky finger in front of her, drawing his attention away from the door. “I … I think I saw a spirit down the hall,” she said, a quiver in her voice.

Colleen marveled at Myrtle’s creativity. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

“You really should have a seat in—” Michael began.

“Oh! There it is again!” Myrtle cried out.

Colleen bit her lip, tugged on the drawer, and then with a gentle thump it slid open. She paused a moment, stunned. Lying inside the coffin drawer was Rich’s missing laptop. For a brief second, she couldn’t help but marvel at how small and light laptops had become.

“Please, Mrs. Crepe. Have a seat in here and I’ll be right back with some water.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know.” Myrtle faltered, losing her battle of distraction.

Colleen grabbed the netbook, slid it under her shirt, and wedged it between the waist band of her pants and the small of her back. She quickly closed the drawer and swung around just as Michael helped Myrtle into the room. She nodded slightly to Myrtle, indicating she had succeeded.

“You know,” Myrtle said. “I’m actually feeling much better now. I don’t know what came over me. I think I’ll be fine without that water.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“We really should be going,” Colleen said, keeping her back as straight as possible as she crossed to the door. “We’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

“Here’s the information about the viewing,” he said, handing Myrtle a slip of paper.

“I’ll let everyone know,” she replied.

“Shall we?” Colleen said to Myrtle, eager to exit before the netbook slipped from the waist of her pants and went crashing to the floor.

“Yes, of course.”

She hastily exited the room. Myrtle walked behind Colleen, blocking Michael’s view of her back. The hall now seemed a football field long, but Colleen resisted the urge to run. She pushed open the door and exhaled with relief. She held the netbook against her back and hurried to the peace garden to retrieve Sparky, Myrtle right on her heels.

“Really?” she said to Myrtle. “That’s what you came up with? A ghost?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Colleen rolled her eyes and untied Sparky.

“What did you find?” Myrtle asked as she followed Colleen back through the garden.

Colleen crossed to her SUV, ignoring Myrtle’s question. She didn’t want Myrtle any more involved that she already was.

“Colleen Elizabeth McCabe,” Myrtle said in a stern, loud voice. “I deserve to know why I deceived Rich’s grieving brother and assisted in stealing a personal possession from his casket.”

Damn. Myrtle was good. Nothing like an old-fashioned guilt trip. She stopped and pulled the small laptop from under her shirt.

“I think this,” she said, holding the laptop low, “is what the person who broke into Rich’s house was searching for. Whatever is on here may reveal his murderer’s identity.”

Myrtle’s eyes widened. “But how?”

“I can’t go into all the details, but until we know for sure, don’t tell anyone. If I’m right, it could put you in danger as well.”

“You know who killed Rich?”

“No,” she said. “But until we do and that person is arrested, please don’t let on that you know about this.”

She let Sparky into the SUV. A vehicle pulled into the lot. She saw who it was and her heart sank.

“Morning, Sam,” Myrtle said, waving to him as he pulled in.

Colleen and Sam locked eyes. She wondered how it had gone at the Sheriff’s Department. Clearly, Bill hadn’t released Rita, or she would have been with her husband. Colleen placed the laptop on the seat with Sparky and hopped in. She’d let Sam tell Myrtle about what had happened with his wife and Doris … if he so chose. Not that it would matter even if he didn’t. Soon everyone in Corolla would know about what had happened between Sam and Doris.

She rolled down her window as she passed Myrtle. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

Colleen watched in her rearview mirror as Myrtle approached Sam’s vehicle and leaned on the door to talk. Hopeful that Myrtle would keep the discovery of the laptop confidential, she left and headed toward the Sheriff’s Department.

Chapter 20

“I found Rich’s
missing laptop
in his casket,” Colleen said into the phone as she sped up Ocean Trail toward the Sheriff’s Department.

“You were in his
casket
?” Bill almost yelled on the other end.

She winced. She knew it sounded bad—stealing possessions from a dead man’s coffin—but something made her think Rich would have approved. In fact, she felt he had put it there for safe keeping, although she had no idea why he’d felt he had to do that. Michael had told her that his brother had picked the casket out for himself. Not many people could afford that level of expense. Rich must have been confident that nobody would disturb it until he needed it again. He probably never figured it might go to the grave with him.

A teen boy zipped across the road on a bike. She hit the brakes and threw her arm across Sparky’s chest to brace him. The SUV skidded to a halt. I’d better slow down, she thought. No need to add another death to an already death-filled summer.

“Where are you?” Bill asked.

“On my way to your office.”

“You’d better not. It’s a zoo here.”

It wasn’t like Bill to put off taking custody of evidence. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Rita admitted to poisoning Doris and breaking into your house. She’s confessing to Rich’s death, as well.”

She got why Rita might be angry at Doris, but Rich? “Why’d she say she killed Rich?”

“Something about him knowing about the affair and not telling her, but I’m not buying it. Rodney’s with her now. There’s more than what she’s telling us.”

“What did Sam say when he got there?”

“He was upset, got pretty disruptive. I told him to go home or else I’d arrest him, too. Hold on a minute,” he said. She heard muffled talking and then Bill got back on the line. “I gotta go. Hang on to the laptop. I’ll be over to retrieve it or send a car as soon as someone is free. And don’t mess with it. It could be evidence.”

“Right,” she said, trying not to be annoyed by his last remark, and ended the call.

She steered into the Whalehead community and lowered her speed. None of what Bill had told her made any sense. How could Rita have overpowered Rich, a man much younger and stronger than she? Could she have poisoned him, too? The ME’s report indicated strangulation as the cause of death, and nothing suspicious had shown up in the toxicology report. Perhaps adrenaline had been at work. There had been plenty of reports of people performing seemingly impossible physical feats in a crisis situation. Could that have given Rita the strength to subdue him? It didn’t seem likely, but it was possible. Still, even if she were to entertain the idea that Rita had somehow been physically capable of strangling Rich, the question remained: Why? She didn’t buy the explanation Rita had given Bill and his men any more than Bill did. She agreed with him; something more was going on.

She came to a stop sign on Whalehead Drive and watched as a family crossed on their way to the beach. The mother protectively hurried her young children, a boy and a girl, to the side of the road. That’s what women do, she thought. They protect the things and people they love—children, students, animals, lovers … spouses.

A car honked behind her. She jumped and then continued toward the fire station. There was only one person who mattered enough to Rita that she would kill someone in order to keep him: Sam. Doris’s death was proof of that. Perhaps Rita had thought that by getting rid of Doris, she was protecting her marriage. But whom was she protecting by lying about killing Rich? Sam seemed the most likely candidate. If she was protecting Sam, what was she protecting him from? Could he also be involved in Rich’s murder? Had they killed him together? And if so, why? By all accounts, Rich was a man everyone in the theater group had respected and admired.

She arrived at the station and parked. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that it was almost too much to fathom. She had a growing sense that Sam was somehow involved in what had happened with Rich, but there was nothing other than her gut to go on. She felt like she was looking at a puzzle that was missing the last crucial piece. Sparky pawed at her thigh and whimpered to get out.

“Sorry,” she said.

She grabbed the laptop and released Sparky from the SUV. Jimmy emerged from the garage to meet her, anxiety on his face.

“How you holding up?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“The guys and I agree we’ll each take a shift at your house, starting tonight.”

“Why would you do that?” she asked, and then realized he was referring to the break-in at her house. “That’s really not necessary.”

“This isn’t a discussion.”

She was surprised by his stern manner. It wasn’t like him to use that tone with her, but she knew it was coming from a place of concern. “Rita Riddle has confessed to the break-in at my house and the murder of Doris Jenkins. Bill arrested her a little while ago.”

He stared at her, wide-eyed. “Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“We do indeed,” she said, and patted his back.

“I thought we’d surprise the guys with an impromptu drill test,” he said, his concern about her safety now significantly diminished. “You think you’re ready to see how they’ve been doing?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “Give me a couple minutes and I’ll be right out.”

Jimmy hesitated before leaving. “We’re really glad you’re okay,” he said.

“Sweet talk like that won’t make me go easy on everyone,” she teased, but she knew that his comment was sincere.

“I’ll be sure to warn them,” he said with a wink, and left to give the men a heads-up about the impending drill.

She filled a water bowl for Sparky from the outside faucet and left him eagerly lapping up the fresh, cool liquid. She decided to drop the laptop off in her office and then head outside.

She climbed the stairs. Her whole body felt tired, and she knew it was from emotional rather than physical stress. She turned on the light and was surprised to find a flower arrangement on her desk. Even before she opened the card, she knew it was from Pinky. The arrangement contained freesias and the note read simply “Glad you’re safe. Yours, A.S.” First Bill, then Jimmy, and now Pinky. She was lucky to have so many people in her life looking out for her—most especially Bill.

She set the netbook on her desk and plopped into her chair. Bill had warned her about tampering with the computer, but what if it contained evidence that would allow him to make an arrest now? Wouldn’t he want to know that? Her fingers hovered over the laptop and then she opened it, hit the power button, and waited for the start-up menu. Seconds later, a password prompt window popped up. Darn. She should have known that if Rich would hide his laptop in his casket, he would also have it password-protected.

The cursor blinked, tempting her to type in a guess. What would Rich have used as a password? Something to do with his job? The play production? Or would it be more obvious, like a pet’s name? She heard footsteps on the corrugated-metal stairs. They sounded like those of a woman. Seconds later, Hayley appeared at her door.

“Hayley,” she said, closing the laptop slightly and standing. “What brings you by?”

The actress set down her purse and silk scarf on the desk and took Colleen by the hands. “I heard about what happened at your house.”

“News travels fast,” Colleen said, surprised by the depth of the woman’s worry. “But really, I’m fine.”

Hayley stared at her a moment longer, then released her hands. “Good,” she said, satisfied. “What pretty flowers.”

“Yes,” Colleen said. “From a good friend.” She didn’t want to get into another discussion of her romantic life with Hayley. Once was humiliating enough. She sat and leaned back in her chair. “I appreciate your concern,” she said with sincerity. “But what really brings you by?”

An impish smile formed on Hayley’s lips. Uh-oh, Colleen thought. What’s this going to be about?

“I’ve been recruited by your illustrious theater company to find out if you’ve made up your mind about providing rain for their production.”

Had the group really burdened the star with their little show? “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “They really shouldn’t have troubled you.”

“No trouble at all. They’ve asked me to serve as the play’s mistress of ceremonies for opening night.”

“They didn’t.”

“And I’ve accepted.”

She raised her brows. “You did?”

“Why not? My roots are in theater, and if it helps raise money for those beautiful horses, I’m all for it.”